The Case of Déjá-vu
by crimescenelover
Summary: Brandt's worst nightmare comes to life as he is forced to relive his demons when a kidnapping turns into a protection detail … and this time he is determined not to fail, even if it costs him his own life
1. Any Other Day

**Title: **The Case of Déjá-vu

**Chapter title:** Any Other Day

**Summary: **Brandt's worst nightmare comes to life as he is forced to relive his demons when a kidnapping turns into a protection detail … and this time he is determined not to fail, even if it costs him his life.

**Author's note: **Hi! I'm back with a new story :D It's been a long wait, but I'm back nonetheless!

This time the chapter titles come from Bon Jovi songs. The chapters are not really related to the songs; I just picked those that I thought sounded nice and kind of reflected my intention with the chapters. Also … Bon Jovi is awesome!

I hope you will enjoy this one as much as the first - Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything related to Mission Impossible nor do I own anything you might recognize.

"_It's better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles."_

* * *

He had had a bad feeling about the whole mission to begin with. Throughout the planning, the location-scouting and the codename-making, the gnawing feeling in his stomach only increased until it was almost impossible to ignore. And as he was lying there, freezing in the cold mud that covered both his face and his clothes so he could blend in with the ground, that feeling hadn't subsided in any way.

Rain had recently ravaged the construction site so the ground had become soft and muddy with an occasional puddle here and there. Everywhere there were rusty pipes, cement-clusters, construction machines, large flamingo pieces, and dumpsters.

Agent William Brandt was lying in his stomach, covered in black so he couldn't be seen in the dark night, hidden between two houses; or what was going to-be-houses. They were still at an early stage, only consisting of cement lines showing the house's outer size. 15 yards in front of him stood more finished buildings, their exterior already built, while the interior was still nude with some isolation still sticking out from the ceiling.

And in one of those houses, a bit to Brandt's left, lights had been flickering and the building had been almost buzzing with life; at least buzzing if you were an IMF team looking for any kind of suspicious behavior.

Brandt shifted his position quickly to offer a short relief to his sore body. He had been lying there for six hours now, and the cold wasn't just on his underside now; it had moved to his whole body and stolen all his warmth. And though it was uncomfortable and he would rather be sitting inside his warm apartment then in the cool night, he had had worse and didn't try to warm himself up. He knew he would give away his position, and that was not something destined to end well for anyone.

A buzz filled the silent air as Ethan's voice sounded in his ear: "_Thor, any activity?_"

"Negative Odin. Plenty of activity, nothing suspicious though." Brandt answered. Why Ethan wanted to use Norse mythology to inspire code names he had no idea. But since there was no way around it, he was glad to be stuck with 'Thor', the god of thunder, whereas Benji got the name 'Baldur' who was the god of peace. He had complained for a long while, that he was now a field agent and not someone to sit back from all the action. He softened up eventually after he had been allowed to complain a bit though. Just as he always did.

"_Any sign of the girl?_" Ethan continued.

"No, but there is a surprising amount of gun-carrying men inside, so I think we are in the right place." He held a small pause, before continuing. "You know … I don't get why I am supposed to be the one lying out here in the middle of the night?" He complained silently, removing his binoculars for a second; he needed to focus on something else, even just for a second, and the only other thing he could do was talk to his teammates.

"_Baldur is on surveillance, and Freya is establishing contact with Giovianni_," Ethan reasoned.

"I thought we had an agreement; I was going to be the one seducing the rich guy on our next mission and then she could do the dirty work." Brandt continued.

"_You guys are busting my concentration_," Jane's hushed voice joined the conversation.

"Yeah, well, I'm knee-deep in mud, my ass is freezing and I can't feel my legs. You are not the one with the short end of the stick here." Brandt said and replaced the binoculars back to his eyes.

"_You_ _should be the next one to seduce the rich guy: you are bitching a lot, Brandt._" Brandt could almost hear the smirk in Ethan's voice that was certainly planted on his face.

"I got nothing better to do. Seeing these guys drinking and playing poker lost its charm hours ago … Wait!"

"_What? Spot anything?_" The team leader's voice got tense and ready for action immediately.

"Nope; one of them just got a royal flush. Looks like the others are pissed about that; maybe they are even going to fight." Ethan sighed into the comm. in Brandt's ear, but the younger agent just smiled.

"_If they use their guns it_ _could grand us access_, _don't you think?_" Benji suggested.

"Dammit, now they're laughing. So much for a little action," Brandt sighed.

"_Keep looking; sooner or later they're going to either get careless or move the girl_."

"If she's even there," Brandt sighed and adjusted the binoculars in his hands so his arms wouldn't go to sleep again.

* * *

Another hour passed by. Brandt's right leg had decided to go to sleep and the cold was starting to get the better of him. He was trained, like all IMF agents, to withstand and ignore such discomforts. But there was uncomfortable and then there was just pain. The numbness had started to spread throughout his body, and he knew he had to make his joints move; otherwise he would be no good to the little girl if something did happen during the night.

So he put down his surveillance-gear quietly and started to massage his numb leg, until he could feel the blood beginning to circulate again. It took him less than a minute, so he wasn't worried when he placed the binoculars in front of his eyes.

But when he fixed his sharp-trained, yet tired, eyes to their mission again, an icy feeling suddenly spread through his body and replaced the chilling cold of the night. One of the men from the house stood by the large window that filled almost the entire wall, which made spying on them a whole lot easier for Brandt. But he guessed it worked both ways now. The man stood completely frozen, his automatic weapon held loosely in his hands, and stared in the IMF-agent's direction. It seemed like he was staring Brandt right in the eyes.

Brandt didn't dare to move, in case the man was indeed watching him. He barely breathed, until he waited for the man to look away. Except he didn't. Brandt barely moved his lips when he whispered into his comm.: "Odin, I think I've been compromised."

"_Are you positive?_" answered Ethan's voice.

Brandt held his staring contest with the man. When he turned away from the window in a haste, Brandt swallowed, suddenly with a bad taste in his mouth. "Positive …"

"_You need to get out of there now!_" Ethan's voice had taken on a tone filled with a slight panic.

"What if they move the girl? Now that they know someone's spying on them they won't stick around," Brandt said. He had already started to collect his things, but he still kept an eye on the house. The men inside were yelling and making hand-gestures. It wouldn't be long before they moved out.

"_We have the locations of the other safe-houses. You are no good to her dead,_" Ethan argued.

Brandt swallowed a single time when he saw three of the men picking up their weapons from a table and moved towards the door. "Looks like I don't have a choice," he mumbled into the comm. before packing down the binoculars in the small pack he had brought along.

"_Brandt, be careful_."

"Yeah, I'll try," Brandt answered quickly and slung the pack over his shoulders.

"Hey!" a loud voice called from in front of the house.

Brandt didn't stop or respond as he turned on his heels and started to run. He sprinted through the open construction site, jumping over small cement-clusters and trash left behind. Not once did he turn around. He knew his followers were close behind. He could hear their screams of "stop!" and "get him!" and knew if he stopped he would be caught or killed. "A little help would be appreciated," he breathed into the comm. unit. Why was this construction site so damn big and open?

"_Hang on. Benji is on his way_," Ethan answered.

"Tell him to hurry up!" Brandt quickly demanded.

Two gunshots rang out in the night and Brandt instinctively ducked: "Crap! Now they're shooting!" Bullets peppered his path and he dived behind an excavator and took out his gun.

"_Five minutes out!_" Benji's voice announced.

"Now would be better, Benji!" Brandt said while he fired several bullets at the men hunting him. They answered with their own spray and bullets rained upon the machine and ricocheted in wild directions. The IMF-agent kept firing back until his gun clicked empty and he cursed to himself. _You better be on your way, Benji_ he silently pleaded before he hid his pack inside the excavator and took out the comm. unit in his ear and crushed it with his foot.

"Hold your fire!" he then yelled to the men. The bullets stopped coming and Brandt hoped it was a good thing. He tossed his empty gun into the line of fire first before he stood up and raised his hand over his head. "Don't shoot. I'm coming out!"

Taking a breath and hoping he wouldn't get shot, Brandt then stepped out with his hands still raised. The three men moved closer to him but still held their gun barrels aimed at him.

"Che cosa dovremmo fare con lui?"(_What should we do with him?_) one of them asked.

"Non lo so. Sia Luigi decider,"(_I don't know. Let Luigi decide_) another answered.

Brandt just looked at them as they carried on their little conversation as they talked about what to do with him. His Italian might not have been the best but he could pick up on some of the words and he decided to interfere. He didn't trust his language skills at the moment so he replied in English instead. "You know, I'm cool with whatever you guys choose. I would love to meet Luigi though," he smirked as they looked at him like he was an alien. Then they regained their composure and one of them walked behind him and poked his rifle into his back.

"Muoversi,"(_Move_) he ordered and Brandt obligated, though he kept his attention to the dark site's edges, hoping for a glimpse of a familiar face.

* * *

"Acknowledge," Ethan demanded into his comm. unit. The silence he received terrified the team leader. "Brandt, acknowledge!" He didn't though and Ethan was met with nothing but static.

Removing the finger from the small device in his ear, he ran a hand over his face and let out a frustrated sigh.

"How long, Benji?" he asked.

"_Two minutes_," the Brit answered.

"Okay. Do not approach; just make sure they don't move out. Wait for us to get there," Ethan said.

"_Got it_."

Ethan had to make a hard decision, but in the end he knew the choice wasn't difficult. It wasn't one the Secretary would applaud, but he wasn't Ethan Hunt for nothing. Therefore he tapped into his comm. one more time. "Jane, move out. We have had a change of plans."

There was silence for a few seconds before she replied. "_What? Give me a few moments and I'll have him eating of my hands!_"

"Stand down, Jane. And meet me in the parking lot in 10 minutes."

* * *

The living room inside the house was big, and only made bigger by the white color and the lack of furniture. The only things that were in there was a thin mattress stuffed away in a corner and a wooden table with three matching chairs. A deck of cards, a knife and a few handguns lay scattered on the table.

Aside from the three men that had escorted Brandt into the house, there were three more waiting for him side. They were all similar dressed with dark clothes and a thigh holster, containing a gun. Two of the men also carried assault rifles like the three men behind Brandt, while the last had a big black walkie-talkie in his hand instead. Brandt could only guess this was the leader of the group. And he was proved right, when he was escorted into the middle of the room where the man commanded in Italian and Brandt was then forced to his knees.

"So, you are the famous Luigi?" Brandt asked and looked up at the man. He was tanned and his long black hair was forced backwards, behind his ears, with hair gel.

"So you know my name, though I do not know yours?" Luigi answered and studied the agent before him. He clearly looked down on him, both literally and figuratively.

"You can thank your goons for that," Brandt smiled and nodded backwards.

"Aha. Why are you here?" Luigi asked.

"I just felt like taking a walk."

"I see. Did you take a tumble somewhere along on your little walk?" Luigi looked rather smug as he quickly scanned Brandt's filthy appearance and the mud clinging to his clothes.

Brandt huffed at the question and shrugged his shoulders, his still raised arms moving up and down. "Yeah, I regret not putting on some warmer clothes …"

"It is a good thing you didn't fell on your gun, hmm?" The Italian raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Well, you know … the world has become so dangerous lately," Brandt tried to keep his voice casual and keep the man talking. He just had to stall until the others would come.

Luigi opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted when the walkie-talkie in his hand buzzed with life and mumbled Italian words echoed in the silent room.

"I don't have time for this," Luigi said and raised his gaze to the two men that held Brandt down. "Lock him up. I'll deal with him later." Then he turned away from his newly-acquired prisoner and started to talk rapidly into the walkie-talkie.

The two men dragged Brandt to his feet and lead him away from the lit room and walked him towards a dark corridor to the left. Brandt started trashing and struggling to get free. But they had a firm grip on his arms and it was to no use. They stopped by a large and locked steel door.

_Obviously not a part of the original structure_, Brandt thought.

One of the men removed the lock bolt and pushed the door open. The IMF-agent suddenly stopped his fight to be released when he got a look inside. He froze completely. Inside sat a small brown-haired girl. She sat at the far end of the room, hugging her knees close to her chest. Her big brown deer-like eyes peeked out from her long frizzy hair, completely terrified of what was going on. Though it didn't look like she had been hurt physically, a fact Brandt was extremely relieved about, she had dirt all over her pink and purple clothes and her skin. Dried tears clung to her cheek and fresh ones lurked in the corner of her eyes.

Brandt had no doubt; he had found the missing girl. Now all he had to do was get her out of there, which was a statement easier said than done.

They were about to throw him into the room to join the girl, but a voice interrupted them from the living room.

"No, you incompetent idiots!" Luigi said and stalked with long steps towards them, his arms flying wild around his head, his walkie-talkie still in his hand. "When I say, lock him up, I don't mean lock him up with the girl! He was watching us, so do you think it would be smart to put him in the same room with the reason he was watching us for? Put him in the other room!"

Brandt wasn't even listening or paying attention as he stayed unmoving with his eyes never leaving the frightened girl's. She was obviously freaked out and scared of what was going to happen. He tried to calm her down and tell her that everything was okay, but judging by her terrified eyes he didn't manage to convince her.

When Luigi turned around and walked away in annoyance, mumbling cursing words about incompetence and bad employment, the two men holding Brandt started to dragged him away from the girl and further down the corridor where he could vaguely see the outline of another steel door.

Brandt suddenly panicked. His heartbeat started going faster, because all of the sudden this had just turned from a rescue mission to a protection detail. Quick snippets of the Croatia mission swirled around in his head; the bad feeling he had had the entire time; the news of Ethan's wife's death and the failure he had felt; the crushing guilt and devastation over having a part to play in the murder of her and the imprisonment of Ethan. All of it returned to him and overwhelmed him in such a way that he could not ignore it. And when he met the poor girl's eyes, he knew he could never fail like that again. He had reached a point of no return and he couldn't, or wouldn't, stop until she was safe in her father's arms again. He knew he was going to hate his decision for the rest of this mission, but he was going to hate himself for the rest of his life if he didn't make it. Now that he had found the girl he couldn't let her out of his sight.

So with a sudden burst of energy, to the surprise of his Italian captors, he banged his head into the man in front of him, leaving him disorientated enough to lose his grip on Brandt's arm. Then he turned his attention to the other one behind him. He slammed his elbow into the man's sternum, before taking a hold of his neck and forced his head downwards as he lead his knee upwards. When the two met, he heard a crunching sound as the nose broke. He then turned and blocked a punch coming from the first man. The man tried again, only to leave an opening for Brandt who gave him a fist in the face. But the Italian quickly returned the favor, faster than Brandt expected, and then sent him reeling backwards with a kick to the chest. But the agent was quick on his feet as he charged towards the man again, grapping a hold of his leg as the man tried to kick him again. He pulled the leg upwards and into himself, so the Italian was pulled towards him, and when he was close enough, Brandt elbowed him on the chin.

Before he could land another blow, someone grabbed him from behind in a bear hug. He struggled to get free but when the hold didn't loosen, he leaned his back backwards to gain momentum before he twisted forwards and slung the attacker over his back and smashed him into the floor in front of him. As he moved forward, the ground suddenly disappeared under his feet as a foot yanked his legs away and his landed on the floor, the back of his head hitting the ground hard. He was then turned to lie on his stomach while his arms were twisted behind him and bound with a plastic zip tie.

Grunting, Brandt was forced into a room similar to the one the girl was in. "Cerca lo!" (_search him!_) a voice ordered from behind. He was pushed against one of the walls and felt hands searching every part of his body to find hidden weapons he didn't have. He tried desperately to break free from their hold, kicking and twisting in every way his body allowed him to do, but they had him secured.

Then an arm came close enough to his face and he bit down on it, feeling the skin break and a metallic taste filling his mouth.

He felt a gun butt connect with the back of his head and it caused his forehead to collide with the wall in front of him. The muttered curse from the man he had just bitten was the last thing he registered before everything faded to black.

**TBC**

**Yes, I know. So far it kind of resembles "Higher Stakes", but trust me! I have something far different planned for this time, so have patience! :D Until then, leave a review! You know, it makes me very happy! **


	2. Breakout

**Title: **A Case of Deja-vu

**Chapter title: **Breakout

**Summary: **Brandt's worst nightmare comes to life as he is forced to relive his demons when a kidnapping turns into a protection detail … and this time he is determined not to fail, no matter the cost.

**Author's note: **Hi! So the first part of this chapter is a little back in time. It kinda explains the mission and how and why, just so you all know and don't get confused or anything. I trust you guys to figure it out :D

Thanks to DevinBourdain, Faustine68, SPN4eva556 and shila1378 for following, DevinBourdain and SPN4eva556 for reviewing and lastly thanks to SPN4eva556 for adding to their favorite list.

Your support means a lot to me, really! You guys are awesome and I love you! :D

And for the rest of you who have read the story, I would appreciate a review or something because otherwise I have no idea whether you like it or not

Anyways … I stop talking now and let you read chapter number two

**Disclaimer: **During the time that had passed, I have not yet succeeded into owning Mission: Impossible or Jeremy Renner, which I find very unfortunate.

"_Never believe for a second that you're weak, within all of us we have a reserve of inner hidden strength_"

* * *

The mission was of high-priority; but then again, which mission wasn't? Especially when you worked for the IMF.

A senator named James McGregor got a phone call while he was in the middle of a meeting. The caller claimed to have taken his 7-year-old daughter, Claire McGregor, and now demanded the upcoming election to be fixed, so another opponent could win, along with 10 million dollars. At first it had been an FBI case, but when the opponent assigned to win turned out to be tied to a dangerous Italian gang, it had been handed over to the IMF and landed in the hands of Ethan Hunt and his team. If the opponent won, and if he played his cards right while he received a little help from manipulation and the Italians' so-called "motivation", it could turn into a disaster for the US, and over time, the rest of the world. It would leave the Italian gang with total power. The gang called themselves "Ai Cavalieri Oscuri", meaning The Dark Knights, and was lead by a man named Antonio Giovianni.

The plan was straight forward: Neutralize Antonio Giovianni, and any of the involved, and return the girl safely to her father.

Giovianni was a smart man with an IQ of nearly 170. He had taken over his father's business, which had been a lousy one, and rebuilt everything. He was unforgivable and quickly made himself a name in the Italian underworld, and rose in the ranks until he became the most feared and powerful man among the various mobsters. His conscience was next to non-existent and he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.

So a rescue mission was seeing the light of day. And it had started off easy when they had been told the name of a man who had inside-knowledge and was more than willing to share them. His name was Lionel Mechi, a rat among the snakes of gangsters. He scared easily and was already shaking his pants when Benji and Brandt picked him up and after Ethan had talked to him, he was willing to give up his own mother if that was what it took. He gave up four different locations of safe-houses where Claire McGregor would be transported to and from. If any of the locations were compromised they would simply move her to another. Mechi also told them where the girl was currently being held.

When they stood at a table in their own safe-house later that night, with Mechi blindfolded in another room, their plan was quickly coming together and taking shape nicely.

"Okay, we know Giovianni will be attending the party tomorrow, which gives us an opening," Ethan started. "We know he will be surrounded by his infamous bodyguards, who refuse to leave his side until he tells them to … which is where Jane comes in."

"I'll lure him away and then take him out, nice and quietly," Jane finished, while nodding her head knowingly.

"Right, I will also be there, in case shit hit the fan," Ethan said and passed on an envelope to Jane. "That's your invitation."

Jane took it and then looked at the table before looking back at him. "Where's yours?" she asked.

"Well, consider me as the uninvited guest that only shows up when things start to go wrong," Ethan smiled and winked at her quickly before continuing. "Brandt, I want you at that safe-house. You stake out there, make sure the girl is even there or if this is some sort of set-up. If you can't spot the girl, we can't move in. If the girl is there and the safe-house is compromised you follow them when they are going to move her, so we know exactly where she will be."

Brandt simply nodded, but otherwise didn't talk. He was just trying to suppress the bad feeling that had somehow manifested itself in his stomach. He didn't voice his concern, not yet at least, because he didn't have a specific reason for it.

Ethan took no notice of the analyst's silence, so he turned to Benji instead. "Benji, you will be stationed in our van where you'll monitor every one of our movements. You are going to make sure neither Giovianni nor senator McGregor make or receive a call we wouldn't know about. You are our safety-net, which means you can help if things go wrong in our end or if things go wrong in Brandt's end, okay?"

Benji nodded seriously, understanding his role. "You got it, Ethan."

"Good. Our objective is rescuing this girl and we leave nothing to chances," Ethan finished. He needed every one of his teammates to know what exactly what this mission was going to be about. They had been told what it was millions of times, but a repetition never hurt, especially with important and dangerous missions … which was all of their missions.

Benji, Brandt and Jane all nodded, knowing what their part of the mission was going to be.

"Okay, Benji, your codename this time is Baldur …" Ethan started but didn't get any further as Benji immediately interrupted.

"Hang on. Baldur, really? Come on," Benji said non-believing.

"Here we go …" Brandt muttered under his breath and leaned onto the table. Jane muffled a laugh as Benji started to complain of his new codename and his unfair life.

* * *

"_Why does every protection detail turn to crap in my hands?_" The sentence was Brandt's first thought as he staggered towards consciousness.

He groaned lightly and opened his eyes. They quickly adjusted to the dim light that bathed his 'room'. Despite his bindings being cut, he was in the exact position he had fallen: on his stomach, face down. His body protested slightly as he rose to his elbows and his world blurred and tipped for a small second. A copper taste filled his mouth and he spit out a mixture of saliva and blood. Brandt smiled for himself, satisfied to know it wasn't his blood that was in his mouth. Grunting slightly, he proceeded to move himself up in a standing position.

When everything started to spin he used the wall for support until the world stopped moving too fast. Brandt then moved to the steel door. He had no idea how long he had been out and what had happened in the meantime. He did not know if they had moved out and taken the girl with them and just left him in the room for his team to find when they would arrive. He prayed they had assumed it was only him who was watching them and they hadn't made a connection to a larger team or organization. Therefore he placed his ear against the cold steel and listened for any sign of life buzzing outside. A ghost of a smile hinted across his lips when he heard the faint sounds of men scuffing around and mutters in Italian. So they were still there. For how long he had no idea, but for now nothing seemed to have changed.

He turned his attention to the door itself. It was made of shiny steel and its surface was completely smooth. In fact, there was nothing on it at all. Brandt ran his hands over the cold material and they encountered nothing but steel. The lock must be on the other side and on the other side only. It was a clever design. There was no way he could unlock it from his side unless he had a high-powered weapon that could cut through steel and currently he was a little short on those. He started banging on the door to get the Italian minions' attention. When his palms started to hurt from being slammed into the door he put his ear against the cold steel again and listened. No noises outside suggested they had heard him. Or they had heard him and just didn't bother to pay attention to it. They probably knew he couldn't escape anyway.

Brandt sighed and slit down the door until he sat on the floor. He knew that his options quickly disappeared one by one. He couldn't escape on his own; he would have to get assistance from an outside-force. He couldn't con his captors; they were cleverer than they looked. It all boiled down to one opportunity: he would have to wait until Ethan, Jane and Benji broke him out. But that could take awhile. He didn't know if Ethan decided to ignore protocol and break him and Claire McGregor out as soon as possible or if he would go along with the original plan and wait until they would move Claire and take it from there. Knowing Ethan, he would most likely choose the plan that went the most against procedure.

So Brandt closed his eyes, got as comfortable as he could and waited.

* * *

It was nightfall by the time Ethan decided it was time. They had all watched the newly built house the previous night, or what had been left of it, and spent the day making their plan-of-attack. They had seen Brandt being carried away from the living room and disappearing in the hall. Other than him being down the hall somewhere, they did not know much going on. But Ethan had always been a bit of a fan of the unexpected. That was after all his trademark.

So as the sun had set and cast its final shine on the construction site the three agents got ready to bring back their teammate.

"You ready?" Ethan asked as Jane pulled the rubber band out of her hair. She ran her fingers through it and rustled it a bit so her brown locks fell around her shoulders and into her face. Then she pulled down on her shirt so her cleavage became more prominent.

Then she nodded. "Let's get this over with," she confirmed and stepped out of the back of their white van. Ethan and Benji followed her out. "Let's just hope the Italians live up to their name."

With that she strutted away towards the house. The two male agents followed her halfway before they hid out of sight and from their hiding place they watched anxiously as she took a breath and knocked on the door. As soon as the door was opened Jane got into character and broke down.

"Oh, thank God someone's home! I saw there was a light on, but I didn't know someone lived here. Please help me, my car broke down and I'm stranded out here all alone and I don't know what to do …" Jane rambled on and tears started to fill up in her eyes. The Italian looked at her dumbfounded at first but quickly he caved in to his male instincts and leaned forward to comfort the terrified woman.

As soon as laid his arms around her, Jane took a hold of his right arm, turned under his armpit and held him in an arm-lock. Quickly she smashed his head into the wall beside him and he slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Jane cast a quick glance to Ethan and Benji, as she took out her weapon hidden in the rim of her pants, signaling them that it was clear. Ethan smiled and took out his own gun.

The action had begun.

* * *

Brandt snapped out his thoughts and jumped when a gunshot rang out outside of his prison. He quickly moved away from the door when more followed and fast, Italian, desperate sounds joined in. Brandt couldn't help the small smile that crept over his mouth. He had a pretty good guess on who could cause such loud commotion. Scrambling feet neared the door and Brandt scooted closer to the wall. He didn't know who was going to walk through that door so he prepared himself.

A gliding sound filled the room as the lock was turned and the door swung open. "Brandt?" a British voice said.

"Benji," Brandt said and sighed relieved as he saw the voice's owner walk through the door with his gun raised. The Brit smiled at him and lowered his weapon.

"What took you so long?" Brandt asked with a smile and took the gun Benji held out to him.

"We can't all be super-agents," Benji shot back quickly and followed Brandt out of the door, adding, "and a thank you would have been nice!"

Brandt found the two other teammates in the hall outside the door. Jane was tying an unconscious man's hands together while Ethan had collected all of the Italians' weapons and put the last ones in the growing pile.

"Brandt. Good to see you're alright," the team leader said with a quick smile as he saw the mentioned agent come through the hallway, Benji fast on his heels. A large bump had formed on Brandt's forehead and he looked worn with dust and mud still clinging to his clothes, but otherwise the agent seemed unharmed, a fact Ethan was relieved to discover.

Brandt only nodded at Ethan's comment but otherwise didn't make one himself. He looked around the empty living room and at all the either dead or unconscious Italian mobsters. Luigi, he noted, was lying dead with a bullet hole in his forehead. But he also noticed something was missing. "You get the girl yet?"

"No," Jane answered. "We wanted to make sure there was no else hiding."

Brandt nodded at the answer and then he quickly turned on his heel and headed for the locked room where he knew she had been placed. In front of the door he unlocked the bolt and pushed open the heavy metal door. It revealed the small girl, looking even more frightened than she had the first time.

"Claire?" Brandt said as he entered.

At his entrance, she cowered further into the farthest corner and hugged her knees tighter. She made a small terrified squeak as he neared her slowly, scared of what was about to happen. She had only heard the screams of panic from her captors, followed by sounds of loud gunfire and fighting. Having no idea what had just transpired, she could only assume it had to be something bad.

So Brandt stopped his advance to the girl and put his hands up in the air, showing he had no intention of hurting her. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you," he said to her in a hushed voice. "I'm one of the good guys. My name is Will."

Claire's body was still tense and while she was still hugging her knees, she seemed to loosen up a little bit as she regarded him. Taking a chance, Brandt moved slightly closer to her. She hid behind her hair and tried to press herself further against the wall so he stopped. She opened her eyes when she heard him stop and looked at him again.

"Your father sent me and my friends to rescue you," Brandt tried. "I'm here to take you home, alright?"

He lowered himself to his knees so his eyes were at level with hers. He still kept his hands raised so he was certain she understood he meant her no harm and that he would not force her to do anything she did not like. She had to go with the team by her own free will otherwise the mission would be much longer and complicated than it already was.

Now that he was closer she studied his face and suddenly a small spark of recognition ignited in her eyes. "You are the man they captured," she said. Her voice was shaky and tiny.

"Yeah, I am," he smiled at her. "I came looking for you. Let me take you home." He extended his hand to her, ever so slowly so he wouldn't spook her.

"Are you friends with my dad?" she asked him instead.

"Yes. He is very concerned for you, so how about we take you to see him?" Brandt said, smiled wider as he realized she started to trust him.

She hesitated at first and Brandt held his breath while she decided. Then she nodded quickly and took his hand. She allowed him to scoop her up in his arms.

He felt her arms tighten around his neck and to comfort her he rubbed her back with his hand. "I got you," he whispered as both of them exited the room and headed towards the rest of the team, waiting in the hall.

**TBC**

**So know they got the girl. And all seems fun and games. But staying true to the Mission: Impossible way … nothing is what it seems and shit is about to hit the fan :D **

**Like I said at the beginning of chapter … Please review. I hate to beg, but … **


	3. Brokenpromiseland

**Title: **A Case of Deja-vu

**Chapter title: **Brokenpromiseland

**Summary: **Brandt's worst nightmare comes to life as he is forced to relive his demons when a kidnapping turns into a protection detail … and this time he is determined not to fail, no matter the cost.

**Author's note: **Before we move on to the story I would like to thank Sabsi13 (also for chapter 1) and SPN4eva556 for reviewing. It means a lot. Thank you.

**Disclaimer: **Again, I do not own Mission: Impossible or anything else you might recognize bla bla bla and so on and so forth …

"_If you do not conquer self, you will be conquered by self._"

* * *

Their safe house was a good five hour drive away from the construction site.

Upon examining the house and all electronics the team learned that the Italian mobsters only had been henchmen, assigned to protect and eventually move the girl from location to location. They knew nothing of Giovianni or where he would be hiding nor were there any clues in the estate on where he could be. So they grabbed the walkie-talkie Luigi dropped when he was shot as they had stormed the house. Then they left the construction site and tied up goons for a clean-up crew from the IMF to take care of.

The whole time Claire refused to leave Brandt's side. Every time he tried to put her down, she squirmed and held onto him tighter. So Ethan, Jane and Benji assured him they would take care of cleaning up and packing their van while Brandt sat in the vehicle, waiting and gently rocked his body back and forth to comfort the scared girl. When there was nothing going on other than sitting and waiting, Claire was quick to fall asleep. Brandt doubted she had been getting enough rest since her capture. Few people were able to sleep while being held against their will, child or not. So he let her sleep with her small body curled and nuzzled up against his chest.

Brandt too felt exhausted but he decided he would wait until they reached the safe house so he could take a shower before going to sleep. If he had to guess he would say the rest of the team probably hadn't gotten much sleep either. They hadn't slept much since they started the mission and he didn't believe they would have rested since his capture.

But as they were driving, with Benji and Jane in the back and Ethan next to him behind the wheel, Brandt felt his eyes grow heavy. He tried to his best to keep them open and focused on the endless road and forest that surrounded the highway. Ethan noticed it as he had risked a quick glance on the girl to make sure she was alright and he had already noted the dark circles that had started to form under the analyst's eyes.

"It's okay to sleep, Brandt. We'll watch over her," he assured his agent.

Brandt didn't respond. Instead he first looked at Ethan with his tired green orbs before he shifted his gaze down to Claire, who was still sleeping peacefully.

"You're practically sleeping already," Ethan smiled at him. "We're a few hours away from the safe house so you might as well use the time wisely."

Brandt sighed and finally surrendered. He closed his eyes and instantly he landed in a dreamless sleep.

* * *

When they arrived, Brandt felt just as worn out as before but considerably less tired, though in an ideal world he could do with a few more hours of sleep.

They emptied the van, made sure they weren't followed, and then barricaded themselves inside the safe house. It was small in size with only two bedrooms and an open kitchen to the large living room. Claire took up one of the bedrooms, still exhausted. As Brandt had placed her on the bed she had grabbed in his arm in slight panic. He tried to assure her that he wouldn't leave, but when she still held on, he sat down on the floor next to her bed. There he planned to stay until she fell asleep. But what he did not plan for was for himself to close his eyes.

He woke an hour later though, surprised to see he fallen asleep on the wooden floor. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes and stretching the kinks out of his back, he gently pried his hand out of Claire's grasp. Realizing he was still in his muddy outfit, he quickly found his bag in the room and changed into a cleaner set of clothes. His appearance didn't matter much to him at the moment so he decided to leave it like that for now. Then he walked out silently. He left the door open, though, so she easily would recognize her surroundings and find him if needed.

When he walked out of her room he found Benji asleep on the small lumpy couch next to his computer and every other technical equipment they had brought along. Ethan was sitting by a wood table, examining a map and a case file. Jane wasn't in the room but the door to the other bedroom was closed, so he assumed she was in there, taking a well-deserved nap.

Ethan looked up when he felt the new presence in the room. He acknowledged it by nodding his head upwards a single time before he pressed his finger against to lips and signaling to the slumbering Benji. Brandt smiled wryly in understanding before he moved silently towards the table and sat down opposite of Ethan.

"So how are things progressing?" Brandt asked casually, keeping his voice low.

"Well, before Benji went into a coma over there," Ethan whispered back and nodded towards the mentioned Brit. "He was working on triangulating Giovianni's position from the walkie we took."

"No luck I take it?"

"None so far, but we keep trying," Ethan answered. "Jane was almost dead on her feet, so I ordered her to get some sleep."

"And you?" Brandt asked. Ethan looked as tired as all of them put together so he guessed the agent hadn't slept yet.

"I'll wait until Jane wakes up," he said and then cracked a smile. "I am not sleeping on the floor."

"You can always push Benji out."

The smile widened on Ethan's face for a second, causing a small smile to erupt on Brandt's face too, before he turned serious. "And how are you doing?"

The curves of Brandt's mouth turned downwards again and he shrugged. "Sore," he honestly replied. "I think my pride is hurt more than my body."

"Good. How about the girl?"

"Tired, scared …" Brandt answered. "I think she just wants to go home. Have you contacted McGregor yet?"

"No, not yet," Ethan answered and turned his eyes back to the paper on the table and picked up the pencil.

"Why not?" Brandt frowned.

"Giovianni is still out there. Just because we wrecked his first attempt doesn't mean he's going to give up. What's to say he doesn't try again when all calms down?"

"So we're keeping her here?" Brandt asked. A chill had run down his spine and a small feeling of fear started to grab him.

"Yeah," Ethan's answer didn't settle well in Brandt's stomach. "We keep an eye on her here. We'll protect her."

"No, we won't," said the analyst.

"What?" Ethan looked up surprised. "What are you talking about?"

"We can't keep her here. We rescued her and we are going to return her to her concerned family."

"We have to neutralize Giovianni first. Otherwise we have accomplished nothing," Ethan argued.

"No."

"No?"

"No," Brandt repeated.

"You can and you will," The words were harsh and Ethan made sure it sounded more like a command than a suggestion. But Brandt didn't back down. He held his ground.

"I won't do it."

Ethan rose from his chair as he felt his anger rising. Right now they were in the middle of a mission they needed to complete at fast as possible. He did not need one of his agents backing out. Furthermore he couldn't understand why Brandt would suddenly retreat. As an analyst he must have seen the tactical advantage by keeping Claire McGregor in their custody. If Giovianni decided to try again they would stand ready to take him down. It was their best, and maybe their only shot at this. It led Ethan to believe something had happened during Brandt's short capture he hadn't told anyone about.

"Brandt, what the hell are you talking about?" Ethan asked.

Brandt stood too and though he was shorter than Ethan he managed to remain intimidating as he kept their eye contact, both of them too stubborn to back down.

"Let's just get the girl back to her father," Brandt said.

"And if Giovianni gets a hold of her again? Should we just let history repeat itself? She is safer here with us," Ethan argued back.

"No! She isn't!"

None of the agents no longer cared or remembered to keep their voices down and soon their argument woke both Benji and Jane.

"What is going on?" Benji asked while he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Jane walked out of the bedroom, her eyes squinted and her hair tussled.

"Why is that such a problem, Brandt? It is just until we find Giovianni!" Ethan said, ignoring his two other agents.

"Because the last time we thought someone was safer with us, your wife died!" Brandt shot back, his voice rising to a yelling.

An uncomfortable silence spread in the little safe house. Jane and Benji stood rooted in place, shocked to hear the statement. Ethan himself looked like Brandt had just hit him. But the analyst continued, his eyes and voice full of pain and guilt.

"I can't let someone get hurt like that on my watch again, Ethan. You'll have to do it without me."

"We need you here, Brandt," Ethan took a step forward. "You can spot the things we will miss. It won't happen again, that I can guarantee."

"You're right; it won't happen again, because I'm not doing it. Return the girl to her parents … she will be safer that way."

"You know, we can't do that, Brandt."

"Then I'm out," Brandt said softly.

He turned and stalked towards the front door. Just as he touched the handle Ethan's voice stopped him in his tracks. "And if she gets hurt or worse?"

Brandt turned his head sideways and cast a quick glance in Ethan's direction. "Then we can comfort ourselves with the fact that we weren't responsible." Then he pushed down the handle and walked out the door without as much as looking back.

"Brandt!" Ethan called, but the door slammed shut and marked the end of the conversation.

* * *

As Brandt left an almost eerie silence filled the living room. No one dared to speak, nor did anyone know what to say if they opened their mouths.

Ethan knew the last mission Brandt had had before resigning from active duty had been a protection detail and that it had went to hell. He had been there. But he didn't know Brandt would actually walk out of the mission now that the perimeter had changed. He knew he needed to talk to his agent, sooner rather than later, but with Giovianni snooping around he didn't think he would get the time. Besides it was very personal and a mission called for professionalism. They didn't have time for old demons.

Benji could no longer stand the silence and was the first to speak, his voice ringing of uncertainty. "So … what do we do now, Ethan?"

Ethan leaned his arms against the table. He closed his eyes and for a second he thought. Then he opened them. "We continue on without him. We get Giovianni. We finish this mission and we finish it now."

* * *

After that, it quickly became business. Benji was trying typing away on his computer, trying to track Giovianni in every possible way that could be done electronic. Meanwhile Jane and Ethan talked plans and strategies on how to wash out Giovianni and how they could set up a trap for the Italian mobster without including Claire. For everything in the world they had all agreed pretty quickly that they would not use a girl to get the criminal. It would go against the definition of a protection detail not to mention their own moral codes.

She had been awake a few times since the time that had passed and asked after Brandt, the man she saw as her new protector and rescuer, and Ethan couldn't bring himself to tell her he had left. Instead he managed to convince her that he would be back in a few hours. It bought him a bit of time to figure out what to say to her if Brandt didn't return, which after an hour had passed, seemed very likely. But he got her to loosen up a little so she could eat a little.

"Am I going home to my daddy soon?" she asked while she cuddled her knees.

Ethan was sitting next to her on the bed with his elbows resting on his knees. He sighed heavily before answering. "Not immediately, but we are working on it."

"I just want to go home," she complained to him.

"I know you do. But there are just a few things to take care of and then you can go home, okay?" He waited for her to nod before he continued. "Good. Just look at it as a … vacation. It'll be over before you know it. If you need anything just call for me, okay? Anything at all."

"Okay. Thank you," she whispered and looked up at him. Then she smiled at the senior agent, showing the upper row of her teeth where one of them was missing.

Ethan couldn't help but smile back. It was the first time he had seen her look like the little girl she really was. "Get some sleep. Like I said, we are all right outside if you need anything."

She went under the blanket and when he was sure she was asleep, Ethan walked out and closed the door slightly.

_Brave kid_ …

* * *

Benji was sitting on the couch, a headset covering his ears and the end line was plucked into the walkie-talkie lying next to the computer. While he was listening he was typing on the keyboard, stuck in his own thoughts.

That was until sounds caught his attention and he stopped typing and started listening intently instead. The more he listened, the more alert he became. Convinced that he had heard enough, he tore out the earphones.

"Guys," he called. As he got their attention he swallowed a single time before he stated, "we have a problem."

Jane straightened up from leaning on the table. "What is it, Benji?"

"I just picked up chatter from the radio. They are coming here."

"Who, Benji?" Ethan asked, though he had a pretty good guess on whom.

"Giovianni … they're trying to trace us and based on what I just heard, they are succeeding. They are coming here … to the safe house."

**TBC**

**Please review. I beg you guys …**


	4. If That's What it Takes

**itle: **A Case of Deja-vu

**Chapter title: **If That's What it Takes

**Summary: **Brandt's worst nightmare comes to life as he is forced to relive his demons when a kidnapping turns into a protection detail … and this time he is determined not to fail, no matter the cost.

**Author's note: **So always, before we begin, I would like to thank SPN4eva556, Skewbald and Spontaneous Me for reviewing and Skewbald for following. Thank you for your continued support

**Disclaimer: **I do not own. If I did, I would certainly not be sitting here, writing about it.

"_Struggle is proof that you haven't been conquered, that you refuse to surrender, that victory is still possible, and that you're growing_"

* * *

"What do you mean they're coming here?" Ethan asked. His stress level was far too high for any more problems to arise. But it seemed like that was what about to happen.

"I mean they are coming for Claire. There must have been more than we anticipated because apparently they trailed us for the first three hours of our getaway or followed our tire tracks somehow …" Benji started to mumble out speculations but then he stopped himself. "Anyhow, the point is they've picked up our scent and is now headed in our direction."

"But they haven't found us?" Ethan impatiently guessed.

"No, not yet."

"Jane, how fast can you pack up?" Ethan turned his attention to the female agent.

She quickly calculated in her head before she opened her mouth to answer. But she got no further as Benji interrupted her, saying "I don't think there is any time for that. I mean, they haven't found us yet but they're close. If we decide to move out we might get caught and who knows what might happen."

"So what you're saying is that we're stuck here?" Jane said.

"Well, not in those words …" Benji hesitantly answered and then nodded his head. "But yes."

* * *

Brandt twisted and turned around in his bed. The sheets tangled around him as he continued to move around restlessly and his head twitched now and again. He mumbled inconsistently and his eyes flickered wildly underneath his closed eyelids. Memories from the mission long ago raced around in his brain and the images presented themselves as nightmares in his fitful sleep.

_The leftovers of Julia Hunt, his mind knowing it really wasn't her but deliberately disobeying it for the sake of his insanity._

_The guilt of not warning Ethan and Julia when he had had the chance._

_The call he overheard when Ethan was thrown in jail. _

_The decision he made when he pulled himself out of the field. _

_The horrible feeling of facing Ethan, who seemed oblivious to the fact that he had been responsible for his wife's death._

_The sinking sensation in his stomach when he sensed the words 'protection detail' echo in the safe house. _

_The failure he felt when it backfired … again._

_Claire McGregor's open and lifeless eyes staring up at him, judging him for killing yet another innocent soul. _

Brandt shot up from the bed with a loud gasp. His heart was pounding loudly in his ears along with the sound of his heavy breathing as he struggled to regain control. The sheets that were entangling him was moist the places where it was touching his now sweaty bare skin.

He covered his eyes with his fingers and tried to squeeze the disturbing pictures out of his mind. They remained in there, though, haunting him every time he closed his eyes.

He removed his hand from his face and, with his breathing still heavy, he looked over at the phone the team all had. It was lying discarded on top of his bag, dark and silent.

He was still a bit surprised that Ethan had only tried to call him once since he left. After that, the phone had been comfortingly silent. But he guessed he made himself pretty clear before he had stalked out of that door in the safe house.

But know he was uncertain. Or, he knew exactly what he had to do. But he was uncertain if he _could_ do it. He knew that if he failed, if the team failed, he could never forgive himself. It would be a repeat of the mission years before and the outcome would be the same. He would leave. And he wasn't sure that he wanted to leave, not when he was finally back in the game. Not when he had a team who he could trust with his life.

But he was sure he couldn't stand by and watch. He had to do something.

And he knew what he should and would do.

Brandt let out an irritated sigh while he shook his head.

"Shit," he mumbled to himself as he got out of the bed and headed towards his bag containing his clothes.

* * *

"Benji, anything new?" Ethan asked the British technician.

He looked up from the plans of their own safe house and various other papers that littered the wooden table. Jane was opposite of him, still examining the plans, while Benji was sitting in the sofa with one earphone plugged in so he could listen to the Italians' plans and their progress in finding the IMF team's safe house.

"They have tracked down our area but not the location … yet, but they are approaching fast," he answered. "We can't leave without getting noticed so if we're going to put this shebang together I suggest we do it quickly."

Ethan sighed. He was positive that they could make it out of there, but with a small and terrified girl with them the job got a lot harder. Neither of them had to state the obvious and that was that Claire McGregor was a liability in their current situation. It did not help that they were suddenly down a man. He shook his head.

_Dammit Brandt_.

He hadn't heard from the analyst, though he had called him. The agent hadn't picked up and Ethan didn't have the time to follow through. Wherever Brandt had went after storming out the door, the team leader would just have to trust that he was safe. Everything else that was going on with the younger agent, Ethan would have to take care of later. Right now, they had other things to focus on.

"What do we do with Claire?" Jane asked, breaking Ethan's train of thought, and nodded her head towards the closed bedroom door. "We can't risk her getting into the line of fire."

"One of us will act as her guard. The other two will make sure our backs are covered and create a safe line of passage when we get an opening," the team leader answered. He eyed the plans critically and sighed in sudden annoyance. "This would be easier if we were four."

It seemed like fate decided to be dramatic and grant them a little luck. Just as the words left his mouth the sound of their front door opening broke everyone out of their planning and all three agents drew their weapon and aimed it at the moving door.

However they quickly lowered them when they saw the familiar face standing sheepishly in the doorway. "Do you need another man?"

"Brandt?" Jane asked cautiously. It wasn't very questioning but it did demand some sort of explanation of why he was suddenly showing up after declaring himself out.

"My damn conscience wouldn't let me leave," Brandt explained jokingly. His voice was light but his pained expression begged them not to ask further into it. He was here now and that was all that mattered in the moment.

"Very well," Ethan smiled, understanding. "Let's get to work then."

* * *

Throughout the rest of their planning, Brandt was completely silent. He listened intently and asked questions if he was in doubt of his own role but other than that he didn't intervene or voiced any ideas or opinions he might have. It was easy to see that he was still anxious and fear and pain were evident in his eyes every time he looked at one of his team members. He didn't talk and none of the others forced him to. They could all see what a big decision it had been for Brandt to come back when it was so painfully clear that he would rather be anywhere else.

While the rest of the team was setting up the final pieces of the plan, Ethan stepped aside and called Senator McGregor to let him know that they had rescued his daughter but that she wasn't out of danger yet. The politician had complained and yelled for quite some time when he was told Claire wouldn't be returned to him immediately. It was only when Ethan started yelling himself and even threatening to paint a pretty graphic picture of what could happen if they pulled out now that McGregor complied. Pleased and relieved they wouldn't have to deal with the wrath of a worried father, Ethan had told him roughly what they planned. He purposely left out any part that sounded dangerous for Claire.

Their plan had come together nicely and it was quite simple, really. The safe house was obviously safe for any prying eyes, but it wasn't a fortress. It was made to blend in and offer a sanctuary to any IMF agent who might need it. This meant there was a weapon closet filled with IMF gadgets and a back door emergency exit that led to an open alley. The plan was to guard the front door with as much fire power as possible to keep the Italians at bay so they could smuggle Claire out the back. Ethan, Jane and Brandt would provide the back-up while Benji would take Claire through the back door. When she was safe and if the remaining IMF agents couldn't escape, Benji would circle back and offer his help. And if Giovianni really was coming that meant all of his men would be too so it seemed very likely that they would need as much fire power as possible if they would have any hope of defeating a large part of the Italian mob.

To help them, they had raided the house's armory clear of different kinds of smoke bombs; plenty of guns and ammunition; along with two devices, one that shot out a net and one that could place small explosives for later detonation. They also found a bulletproof vest.

While they were on the look-out for any sign of Giovianni, Brandt was strapping the bulletproof vest around Claire's tiny body. As he tightened the last strap he noticed her scared look and quickly smiled reassuringly at her.

"Hey. I'm gonna need you to be brave now, okay?" He kept his voice low but steady. "Can you do that for me?"

She looked him in the eyes. Then she nodded slowly, unsecure.

"Good. I know things are scary right now and they are going to be scary for a little while longer, but then we are going to get you home to your daddy, alright?"

"You promise?" Claire answered. Her little voice was clearly frightened for what was about to happen but she seemed much calmer this time than when they first rescued her.

"I promise," Brandt replied, smiling at her.

Jane walked past them just then saying, "I'm going to examine the emergency exit to make sure we have a clean escape route." Then she disappeared down the hall with her gun in her hand.

A few minutes passed. The phrase 'calm before the storm' suddenly made sense as a chilling silence filled the tense safe house. But then:

"We have company," Ethan's voice broke the silence. He had been guarding the front door and kept peaking through the peep hole for any sign of trouble and now three black cars pulled up on the empty street. He saw how the driver of one of the cars rushed out and opened the car door of the back. Out stepped a man with slick black hair, dressed in a shiny grey designer suit, smiling wryly.

Giovianni.

Just then Jane came running out of the same hall she had disappeared in five minutes earlier. "Guys, we have a problem," she breathed urgently.

"Just one?" Ethan said, his voice holding a hint of dark humor.

"They have surrounded the whole building. The emergency exit is blocked. We're trapped."

"Blocked? Blocked how?" Brandt asked while his hands tightened slightly around Claire's shoulder.

"They don't seem to know it's there, but Giovianni has placed men around the entire building. Even if we managed to sneak out we wouldn't make it five miles."

"That son-of-a-bitch has the whole thing figured out," Ethan sighed. Then a sort of grim expression crossed his features. "He's making us shoot our way out."

**TBC**

**The plot thickens! Stay tuned for more! :D**


	5. Borderline

**Title: **A Case of Deja-vu

**Chapter title: **Borderline

**Summary: **Brandt's worst nightmare comes to life as he is forced to relive his demons when a kidnapping turns into a protection detail … and this time he is determined not to fail, no matter the cost.

**Author's note: **Now, here comes the action. And a lot of it! I have tried the best I could to write it as good and well-described as possible, but it isn't really my forte if you know what I mean. But (!) I've done the best I could, so please don't hate me if it's bad … Just tell me where I went wrong and I will fix it! :D

Thank you to SPN4eva556 for reviewing, and TheMostRandomOfRandomWriters and bindsy for following and bindsy and kira2127 for adding to their favorites (:

**Disclaimer: **Characters are not mine, the world is not mine … Jeremy Renner is not mine. I'm saaad :'(

"_Courage consists not in blindly overlooking danger, but in seeing it, and conquering it._"

* * *

Though he looked calm on the outside, Brandt was anything but on the inside.

In the dark corners of his mind he was screaming as loud as he could and cursing every single being on the planet. He yelled at whatever higher power was up there for the unfairness. He was convinced he was being punished for making the stupid decision of coming back to finish the mission. This was an act of God and he was currently laughing his ass off at Brandt's expense. It seemed like no matter how hard Brandt tried to redeem himself for his past mistakes, something would always come up that would knock him down. Maybe he wasn't just cut out for field work like he thought he was. Maybe he shouldn't have picked up Ethan's offered phone and just stayed an analyst. That part of his job he hadn't messed up yet. But he knew that even if he could, he wouldn't leave. He couldn't … not now. He promised Claire he would get her home to her father and that was what he was going to do.

But right now, getting out seemed highly unlikely. The entire safe house was surrounded by Giovianni's men, all of whom they could see were carrying either a gun or automatic rifle. Giovianni himself was still standing in front of his car, looking as smug as ever. He cleared his throat loudly a single time.

"Bring out the girl and we will let you live!" the Italian mobster shouted loud enough for the IMF team to hear, including Claire. She huddled closer to Brandt who in return hugged her tighter, hoping to assure her that things were going to be alright.

"Then come in and get her!" Ethan challenged back, seemingly unfazed.

Benji walked into the living room, carrying a walkie-talkie in one of his hands. "I manage to secure the back door. If anyone tries to break through, they're in for quite a surprise. But that also means we can't use that exit anymore, even if we manage to clear it."

"That's all good, but how are we going to get out?" Jane inquired.

"We sneak out," Brandt calmly stated.

"And how do you suggest we do that? They have the whole area surrounded!"

"It's actually a good idea," Ethan said, suddenly with a knowing smile on his face. It usually meant he had a plan or that he was about to do something stupid. Normally the two of them intertwined with one another.

"Ethan, whatever you're thinking … Stop thinking it," Benji warned but Hunt would have none of it as he continued to smile.

"Hear me out. We are never going to get out if we try to sneak away at the same time. But if we move out one by one, we should be able to get out."

"If we provide enough firepower by the front door and use different exits, we should be able to get out. We'd have to take care of any surprises at the perimeters if Giovianni in fact has the whole place surrounded though," Brandt supplied, starting to analyze the situation.

"I give you one last chance! Hand over the girl or face my wrath!" Giovianni's voice boomed outside.

"I've told you to come get her!" Ethan answered back. By now, everyone checked their guns, made sure they had enough ammo and gadgets in their belts and pockets.

"Very well," Giovianni muttered and walked back to stand behind the black vehicle. He turned to his men beside him. "Light them up. If you can retrieve the girl, good. If not, leave no one alive."

The men nodded at the order and then raised their weapons. As soon as the first bullet left the chamber, a whole rain of them followed. They propelled through windows and lodged themselves inside the cement walls of the large safe house.

Ethan and Benji were at the front door, the bottom of it open so they could return fire with their automatic weapons. Jane was covering the right side window while Brandt was covering the left, with Claire clinging to his leg for safety.

The bullets continued to rain upon them without breaks but so far none of them hit any targets besides the grey walls.

"Brandt!" Ethan yelled over the noise of firing guns. "We have to get Claire out of here. We'll create a diversion and then you take her to the bedroom window and escape around back. Acknowledge."

"Acknowledged!" Brandt shouted back. Then he turned his attention to the girl at his feet. "Remember what I said about being brave?" She nodded. "This is now."

He ushered her towards the bedroom while he checked all of his gear to make sure he wouldn't miss anything. He squatted down as he entered and made Claire do the same. Then they made their way to the window where Brandt stuck his head up so he could see what he was dealing with. Outside stood five black clad men, all carrying weapons but only two of them were firing.

Brandt took the opportunity to unsecure the window. When he opened it, he first threw a smoke bomb on the ground in the middle of them. As it ignited and a thick cloud of white smoke started to spread, causing the men to cough, Brandt pulled his gun and fired on the last location he had seen the armed men before the bomb. As the smoke drifted away and cleared all five Italians was on the ground.

"I have passage line cleared," Brandt said into the communicator in his ear.

"_Copy that_," Ethan's voice ringed in his ear. "_Await my mark._"

They didn't have to wait long. A loud boom echoed in the streets and several shouts, Italian if Brandt had to guess, followed shortly. A few seconds later he spotted a small group of mobsters running past the window to the front side of the house. When they rounded the corner, the analyst grabbed Claire and jumped out.

They landed with a soft, almost inaudible thump and when Brandt had made sure the coast was clear, he started moving towards the back end of the house with his firearm aimed in front of him. By the building corner he stopped and peaked around. There he saw at least ten men guarding the back. None of them was shooting or on high-alert, but there was no talking either and all of them had one hand secured on their rifles.

Brandt knew he couldn't try to sneak around them nor could he just go in there shooting. There were too many blind spots and even now he counted on his back being covered, though it probably wasn't. Besides, he had to save his ammunition if he had to use it later. So he decided to take out as many as possible without firing a single shot, as ambitious as it was.

"Stay here until I call for you, alright? You only move if someone is coming around the corner that isn't one of us. Understand?" he gently said to Claire. When she nodded and he was sure she completely understood, he rounded the corner and sneaked forward. Trying to be as still as possible, he crept up behind the first man, who was stupid enough to turn his back on him. He easily snapped his neck. Then he quickly moved towards the next one.

* * *

Jane was the next one to move out. She moved up a flight of stairs that led to the roof where she carefully opened the door an inch. She kept her gun aimed in front of her body while she continued to open the door more and more. Then she relaxed slight when she saw that the roof was completely clear.

It had been half an hour since Brandt had moved out and the plan had been for him to take out most of the men out back, so Jane could have her back clear without having to worry about fire coming from all directions. But she hadn't heard from him yet, so she crouched and kept low when she moved away from the door opening. A few stray bullets ricocheted around and the sound of firing guns was almost as deafening as inside the safe house. Circling the roof and slowly headed towards the back, she tapped the comm. in her ear.

"Brandt, how is that cover progressing?"

Before he replied she heard a single shot echo over his line. "_It's moving forward. But a little help would be appreciated_."

Jane was still hunched over when she neared the end of the roof. Slowly she peaked over and saw Brandt shooting at two Italians in the alley, holding up a limp man for cover. The dead Italian was clearly a burden to the analyst and just as he hit one of the shooting men, his cover slit out of his grasp and landed heavily on the ground. Jane didn't think, but quickly raised her weapon and fired two rounds. One of them grazed the man on the leg, while the other bore through his neck and he collapsed on the asphalt, dead.

Brandt looked up and when he saw Jane standing two stories up, he nodded his thanks. Then his voice, a mixture of breathlessness and humor, came through the comm. unit. "_The cover is clear_."

Jane shook her head and rolled her eyes at his response. "Thank you," she replied sarcastically.

"_You're quite welcome_," he shot back. Then his voice turned serious again. "_I'm taking Claire out of the line of fire and rendezvous with you when she is safe_."

"Copy that," Jane said and moved away from the edge and into the, for the time being, safety of the middle of the roof. She still stayed low so she wouldn't give away her position too early. In the best case scenario, she wouldn't even need to, but best case scenarios never seem to follow their team, so she used the time to checking her weapons and making sure everything worked properly.

A few minutes passed in silence and then the comm. cradled to life. "_Jane, we are going to need a distraction_," Ethan's voice said. "_We have no clear line of passage_."

"One distraction coming up," Jane answered. She braced herself shortly and cocked the safety off of her two guns. Then she stood up fully and started firing wildly. She wasn't aiming at anything specific; she just let her bullets fly in every direction and made sure they knew where they were coming from. It got their attention. One mobster stopped firing and yelled and started to point towards her position on the roof. All of the Italians moved their barrels away from the front door and to the top of the roof where the new threat was standing.

The small break allowed Ethan to burst through the front door. By the time the mobsters turned their attention back to the front door, the team leader had already ran to the right to a new hiding place; a large dumpster. That only left Benji. Both Ethan and Jane started firing blindly, giving Benji the same opportunity Ethan had moments before. When he exited he ran in the opposite direction Ethan had, hiding behind a parked car by the sidewalk.

On the roof, Jane started to run. She had provided the cover, now she needed to get down. As every mobster now knew her position she needed to leave before they managed to surround the building which would block every escape route she had to get on street level again. But with bullets raining down on her trail every few seconds, it would prove tricky. But she wouldn't give up. It wasn't in her nature and it wasn't in any of her team's nature.

She ran and jumped until she found a free fire escape. She grabbed a hold of the railing and slid down from it, jumping the last few feet to the ground where she landed gracefully. Only when she looked up did she notice the three Italians in the small alley.

They stared at her dumfounded, surprised that a woman clad in black suddenly had appeared before them. She looked at them in shock too but she recovered quicker than they did and she managed to shoot one of them in the chest before the rest sprung into action.

Jane shot one of them in the head before a small pain cut across her left arm. Disregarding it, she aimed and fired two times, both hitting the shooter in the chest. He collapsed to the ground next to the two others and the alley fell silent again.

Jane then examined her arm and to her relief saw that the bullet had only grazed the limb. It made a thin cut where a small prickle of blood was oozing down her arm towards her hand. She looked around to make sure the coast was clear and then pressed the comm. unit in her ear. She received nothing but static.

"Ethan?" she tried, hoping the static would only be in her end. But silence only followed, occasionally broken by the scatter of the static. "Benji? Brandt? Does anybody copy?"

No replies came.

"Dammit!" she cursed to herself.

Then an uneasy feeling settled over Jane as realization cut in. None of them seemed to have a clear line of communication between them. And that meant, until they assembled, they were on their own with no way of speaking to each other.

In a situation where there could be Italian mobsters lurking around every corner, it was not good.

This wasn't good at all.

* * *

After Brandt had made sure the alley behind the safe house was clear for Jane, he escorted Claire through it. He made sure she wouldn't see the dead men lying in there by making her close her eyes and guiding her through. She had seen enough already. Her innocent eyes didn't need the extra load.

But as both had continued walking in the alleys and small passageways, it became clear that finding a way out would prove difficult. And locating a new safe house for Claire was even more so. The amount of Italians they encountered seemed to double every time they came across some and hiding places were running out. That was until Brandt spotted an isolated warehouse a mile away. Even from a distance it looked worn down and for the analyst that meant it was most likely to be vacant. There was only one problem and that was that the warehouse was located out on the open. Getting out there could mean getting spotted and there would be no hiding and cover places until they reached that building. But there weren't any better options that Brandt could see and he took refuge in the fact that the gunfire he could hear wasn't near their position.

Therefore, knowing they had only borrowed time, he scooped Claire up in his arms and started to sprint towards the lonely building. Once they would be there and it proved safe, he would contact Ethan and they could regroup from there.

He ran, unaware of the pair of eyes that followed him and the smile that broke out on the watcher's face when Brandt entered the warehouse.

**TBC**

**Until next time ... Review, please! :)**


	6. King of the Mountain

**Title: **A Case of Déjà-vu

**Chapter title: **King of the Mountain

**Summary: **Brandt's worst nightmare comes to life as he is forced to relive his demons when a kidnapping turns into a protection detail … and this time he is determined not to fail, no matter the cost.

**Author's note:** The final showdown is about to happen and it is not going to be pretty! And btw, in true movie style the time line is kinda funny and messed up … so if you think time is either moving really slow or really fast. But remember … everything is kinda happening at the same time! Keep that in mind, thank you! :D

And a thanks to SPN4eva556 for reviewing :)

On with the story!

**Disclaimer: **None of it is mine … None of it!

"_Our measure of hope is in direct proportion to our ability to conquer hopelessness_"

* * *

Brandt was panting by the time they reached the warehouse.

As he had suspected, it was vacant. It looked like it hadn't been used for quite some time with dust gathering in large clusters in the corners. It was one large quadratic room with a high roof from where a few short, loose, chains hung. Other than a few boxes and planks of wood, it was simply a brown empty room.

Brandt quickly closed the door they had come in of and put Claire down and then tapped his earpiece. "Ethan?" he tried. The scattering sound of static followed and then there was nothing but silence in the other end. Brandt tried again and again, kept calling Ethan, Jane or Benji, but every time he received a silent answer. His nerves started to tingle uncomfortably and he felt tiny droplets of sweat form on the back of his neck. The gut feeling he had learned the trust over the years told him something was wrong and he didn't hesitate to follow it.

He eyed the door he had just closed with a skeptic eye. He guided Claire towards a second exit to the right instead. "Stay back," he instructed her before he moved to the steel door where he gently pried it open and peaked out. Just as he stuck his head out, a bullet embedded itself barely an inch above his head. Instinctively, he threw himself onto the ground and kicked shut the door, his gun aimed in case someone decided to burst in. But after a few moments, no one did. Gingerly he picked himself off of the floor.

Well, that exit was eliminated.

His eyes scanned the warehouse for other exits they could use and found three. Every time it was the same. Three times he had stuck his head out to see if it was clear and three times he had almost been executed with a bullet to the head. And three times he had slammed a door shut for his own safety. But after door number three, there were no more options.

Brandt's uneasiness didn't settle. If anything, it grew. Because he knew that he didn't just cheat death four times in a row simply because somebody was a bad shot. No, the reason he wasn't dead yet, was because he wasn't supposed to die … at least not at the moment. He had just begun his speculations and had barely reached a somewhat terrifying conclusion, when footsteps broke him out of his thoughts. He swiftly turned around with his weapon aimed to kill at the approaching threat.

He found himself staring into the face of a laughing Antonio Giovianni.

And suddenly Brandt was glad he had decided to save some of his ammunition earlier.

* * *

By the time Ethan managed to get out of the danger zone he had no idea how far he had gone, if he had been followed, or where any of the others from his team were.

He finally stopped running and allowed himself to take a break to catch his breath. While he did so, he checked the communicator in his ear and found he could receive nothing at all. It sent a light chill down his spine. He knew the team could handle themselves, they had proved that over the time so of that he had no doubt, but the thought of them being completely separated with no possible way to contact one another actually scared the team leader. Mainly because it was his team after all and his team was his responsibility. And they had an extra team member of that moment and Ethan didn't think the Senator would be very pleased if they lost his daughter after finding her. Not that any of them would be. But he suspected it would be worse for the father.

And then there was Brandt. He didn't know how the analyst would react if they lost Claire McGregor. He didn't dare to think about it. And he wouldn't begin to think about now. He had to take it one problem at the time and right now the problem was to locate his missing team members.

He was just about to head back in the same direction he came until a familiar whisper stopped him. "Hey, Ethan!" Benji's hushed voice sounded from an alley to his right.

"Dammit, Benji!" Ethan said when he lowered the gun he had pulled when he first heard the voice, but he still had a smile on his face.

The Brit came out of the shadows, smiling somewhat proudly. He had small bruises and dirt covering his face but he looked otherwise unharmed, which Ethan was very relieved about.

"You wouldn't happen to have seen Jane or Brandt around here would you?" Benji asked and looked around on the empty street.

"Not since they left the safe house, no."

"Bullocks. We need to find them before Giovianni does."

"No need to worry, boys," Jane's voice said from their right. She quickly stepped towards them with her hands slightly raised. She quickly lowered them again when she was sure the two IMF agents didn't see her as a threat. When she did, Ethan noticed the blood streaks on her left arm, coating her tan skin.

"Jane, are you alright?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, it's just a graze," she quickly assured.

Ethan nodded understandingly, but he still tore a small piece of his dark shirt and bound it around her arm, stopping the still flooding blood that leaked slowly out from the cut. While he was doing so, Benji was looking around the street. "Hang on. Where's Brandt?" he asked.

Only then, did the rest of them notice that their analyst still hadn't shown up.

"I haven't seen him since he cleared the alley back at the house," Jane answered. "I think we have to circle back around and hope we bump into him."

"Wherever he is," Ethan said glumly. "We just have to hope Claire is with _him_ and not Giovianni."

* * *

They kept out of sight the entire walk back to the safe house, sticking to the back alleys and rooftops. But there was no sign of Brandt or Claire. The only people they saw were Italians and they made sure to steer clear of them. They arrived around back of the safe house an hour later. The sound of gunfire that ceased which meant Giovianni had probably figured out that the team wasn't in there anymore and was deciding how to proceed next.

In the alley where they stood a few wooden boxes was filling up most of the exit to the street. They blocked any option of peeping in to the alley but that also meant looking out without being spotted was difficult.

But Ethan found a small slit near the ground and he lowered himself down on his stomach and peeked out from under the boxes. His eyes went wide with surprise at what he saw. Several of the mobsters were heading into their cars and driving off, while a few of men ran in the same direction. Giovianni was nowhere to be seen.

"I think they're leaving," he reported back to his team mates.

"But why?" Benji wondered, confused.

"You don't think they have Claire, do you?" Jane jumped in. She couldn't think of any other reason why they would suddenly decide to clear out.

"I hope not."

"They are defiantly clearing out," Ethan concluded, still looking through his makeshift peephole. "But they aren't headed out of town."

"Then where?" Benji asked impatiently.

Ethan rose from the ground and while he dusted of his clothes, he said, "I think they are headed that way." He pointed to the right where they could see the tiny outline of a lone building in the open landscape.

"Why would they …" Benji interrupted himself when he realized what it meant. "Brandt is out there."

"Then that's where we are headed too," Jane stated firmly.

* * *

Giovianni had his hands raised quite casually, showing that he had no weapons … that Brandt could see at least. The analyst didn't waver or lowered his gun an inch. He didn't know what exactly Giovianni's play had turned in to but he had a feeling that he was about to find out. And he was sure he wasn't going to like it or comply with it.

"Well, hello Agent Brandt," the Italian finally greeted, breaking the silence. "So you are the one who destroyed my plans."

"How do you know my name?" Brandt squinted his eyes suspiciously.

"I don't require captives without knowing at least a little about them," Giovianni smirked. "Your information was very restricted but I did manage to get your name and an official-looking photo of you. You must be some sort of agent. Who do you work for?"

Brandt didn't answer.

The Italian mobster just huffed indifferently and continued. "Where are the rest of you?"

"It's only me," Brandt quickly assured before he scooted Claire closer to his body.

"Do not play dumb with me, _ragazzo_. I know there are more of you out there." Giovianni's temper seemed to be rising. Though it unsettled Brandt on the inside, he was convinced not to show the discomfort he was feeling on the outside.

"Hate to disappoint you, but I'm all you are going to get," he replied with a smirk of his own. His voice sounded more confident than he felt. Just because Giovianni wasn't armed didn't mean he didn't have to upper hand. He had most of his men surrounding the warehouse, so even if Brandt and Claire managed to find a way around the Italian it wouldn't matter. They were completely in his hands. For now at least.

"Well, if you give me the girl then I might let you live," Giovianni started to bargain.

"And if I don't?"

"Very simple," the mobster said and slowly pulled away the loose covers of his coat. Inside a square device was strapped tightly to his chest. It consisted of small black blocks with small blue, green, and black wires, intertwined in each other, sticking out several places. In the middle was a rectangular screen with green numbers, reading _1:38_. Brandt's eyes went wide as he realized what it was. "I press this button and then we all go boom. Or we can wait until the time runs out."

"You're insane," Brandt spat.

"I am only insane if you choose wrong. Choose right, I suddenly look like a genius," Giovianni said and smiled knowingly. "So what's it going to be?"

"No."

"Now, look who's insane. You are aware this is your only way out. Alive, anyway," Giovianni added the last one so casually that if a stranger walked by he or she would have dismissed it as a regular conversation.

"I am not handing her over. You want her, you have to go through me," Brandt said and stood his ground. He was not going to hand over the innocent girl behind him to this madman. He vowed to himself that he would protect her and the time had come for him to fulfill that promise. He was not going to fail on this one.

But Giovianni just shook his head. "I do not play that way."

"Too bad, because I do," Brandt said.

"Claire," he then said, though he never removed his eyes from the mobster, not even for a second. "I need you to start walking towards the exit behind us. Don't worry I'm right behind you."

Claire still had her small fingers entwined in Brandt's jeans when she started moving backwards, him only a step behind. His gun was still aimed directly at Giovianni's head and he didn't move it away.

But they had only made it ten steps before Giovianni's threatening words interrupted them. "One more step and we all die!"

Both Brandt and Claire stopped. The analyst didn't expect it to work anyway, but he had hoped that getting a hold of Claire again meant more to the mobster than he portrayed. Clearly, that wasn't the case. Not when he was screaming with his finger hovering a hairs breadth over the trigger button in his hand.

"I give you one more chance. If you value her life, you give her to me," Giovianni said.

"I do value her life. That's why I am not giving her to you," Brandt shot back. He was starting to realize that their only chance of making it out of here was to wait for Ethan and the team to arrive. If that were to happen, he had to stall. "Why is she so important to you that you are willing to kill yourself for her?"

"For years I have only ruled the underworld of Italy. I am destined for greater things. I was born to rule this world and with her help I can."

"No one will grant you that. Like you said, you are only feared in Italy. Outside of the country, you have no jurisdiction," Brandt argued.

"That is true. But you forget that I have powerful friends. Friends that can help tip the scale quite suddenly. You will never see me coming. Not before it is too late."

"Well, I'm sorry to ruin your plans. But without the girl you have nothing."

"You are right." Suddenly a mischievous grin ran over Giovianni's lips. It bore resemblance to that of a man who would die without letting any of his secrets out. He grinned like he knew something nobody didn't and that he was content with that never changing.

He raised the button in his hand slightly; making sure Brandt saw it clearly. "Arrivederci," he smirked before he pressed his finger down.

"No!" Brandt shouted and before the limb could press down, he instinctively pulled the trigger of his gun. Claire screeched at the loud sound as the bullet travelled from the barrel and hit Antonio Giovianni right between his eyes. The Italian mobster fell bonelessly to the ground. A small trickle of blood trailed out of the wound and down his forehead and into his slick black hair.

Brandt moved cautiously forward with the barrel of his gun still trained on the lifeless body. He bent over and only when he could see that the broad chest was no longer moving, did he lower his weapon and holstered in the rim of his pants.

Just as his shoulders started to slump down when he felt he could finally relax, did his eyes land on the timer on the bomb Giovianni had strapped to his own body. It was still counting down. But what scared him the most were the actual numbers on the screen.

_00:05_.

His eyes widened as his brain realized what it meant. Quickly he retreated and stumbled back towards Claire. They wouldn't have time to move out of the blast site. He scooped the small girl up in his arms and ran to the pile of wood planks that he had noticed on the way in.

_00:03_.

He dived over it and curled Claire against his chest.

_00:02_

He made sure his own body shielded hers completely and lowered and covered her head with his hands before he dipped his own head down, hoping it would provide enough protection for the small girl in his arms.

_00:01_.

"_I tried my best and I failed again_."

_00:00_.

A light, tiny, 'clinck' sounded and then a large echoing 'boom' followed immediately after. Pieces of wood hit Brandt's back and heat tickled his neck. There was a loud crash followed by Claire's terrified scream before everything went black and darkness took over Brandt's mind.

**TBC.**


	7. I Don't Want to Live Forever

**Title: **A Case of Déjà-vu

**Chapter title: **I Don't Want to Live Forever

**Summary: **Brandt's worst nightmare comes to life as he is forced to relive his demons when a kidnapping turns into a protection detail … and this time he is determined not to fail, no matter the cost.

**Author's note: **So this is the second-to-last chapter! Before we begin I would like to thank Guest, Acrylate and SPN4eva556 for reviewing on the last chapter! Thank you!

Now … enjoy! :)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own.

"_With courage and hope, we can conquer our fears and do what we once believed impossible_"

* * *

Ethan, Jane and Benji were all 20 yards away from the warehouse, weapons in hands, when it happened.

All they had thought about was arriving as fast as possible to help their friend and take down Antonio Giovianni for good and the blast was completely unexpected. The shockwave knocked the three IMF-agents down at once and covered them in dust.

Ethan got up first, coughing and blinking the sand out of his eyes. "Everyone alright?" he asked to his teammates, who were both beginning to stand up as well.

"What the hell just happened?" Benji asked in a high-pitched voice as he looked over the landscape.

Where the warehouse had just been, now only stood the main structure of the building and almost half of it had collapsed in some way. Debris from the blast had scattered all over place with the smallest of pieces still falling from the sky. Some of the wood that the warehouse had been made of were lying on top of each other and had small flames licking their surface only to extinguish seconds later by themselves. A thick cloud of black smoke was still rising towards the sky from the building, only getting thinner when it reached the 65 foot mark straight up in the air. A few men were crawling away from the blast site, some on shaky feet and others on all fours.

But the team paid no attention to them. Even if they got away, IMF would sniff them out later. Right now, they weren't important. What was important was that Brandt and Claire and maybe even Giovianni had been inside of that warehouse when it blew. Ethan tried to swallow the bad taste in his mouth but his now dry throat prevented it.

"You don't think Brandt was in there, do you?" Benji asked, quieter this time. He was afraid to think about what state the analyst and the small girl would be in if they had been in there, right in the blast zone.

"I don't know. We spread out and we try to find any clue as to where they are. We don't leave here until we find Brandt and Claire," Ethan instructed. "Not none of them, not one of them, both of them!"

* * *

An hour past of their searching and hadn't encountered any luck or success yet, despite their loud calling and intensive search. And doubt and pessimism had started to take over Ethan's mind. He would never voice it or admit to any other but himself, but he could feel the negative thoughts and horrifying what-ifs scenarios clouding his mind.

They still hadn't reached the center of the blast site yet because they used a meticulous and systematic approach. They scouted the outer area first, hoping that Brandt had tried to escape from one of the doors and just got caught up in the blast on the way out. But so far, they had no such luck. Which was why, the bad sensation was starting to outweigh the optimism.

They met only 35 feet from the center of the pile of rubble and all of them wore a similar beat down expressions. The layer of clouds that had formed during their fight had now departed and the sun was shining down on them and warming their faces.

"Any luck yet?" Ethan asked and placed his hands on his hips.

"Nothing yet," Jane answered and then made eye contact with the team leader. "Ethan, I don't think they made it out."

"We have to keep looking," Ethan encouraged. They started to depart to continue their search, but a sound disturbed them and froze all of them in their places, all of them ready to spring into action if needed.

The sound was of wooden boards scrambling against each other and then landing on the dusty, dry ground. A deep strained cough followed as a lumpy shadow rose from beneath the rubble.

"Ethan …" Benji warned. He was questioning what their course of action was going to be with this new development.

Ethan remained completely silent and waited until he could identify the figure. From what he could tell it was a man, maybe a large, bulky man. But as it got closer, Ethan's heart started to go faster. But it was in relief.

Because through the smoke, none other than agent Brandt staggered out, cradling Claire's small body close to his chest.

He was stumbling on the uneven ground and he seemed dazed and unsure of where he was and what he was doing. His clothes were torn and completely covered in dust and dirt while his face was full of blood and sod.

"Brandt!" Ethan called out, relieved, and ran the few steps towards his teammate with Jane and Benji right on his heels.

The analyst looked up at the sound of his name, though looking confused. When they got closer, Ethan could see that his eyes were bloodshot and kept shifting in and out of focus. There didn't seem to be a shred of lucidness to find.

In his tight arms, Claire appeared lifeless and still but her back was moving up and down in a steady and healthy rhythm.

"Brandt?" Ethan tryingly asked.

The analyst looked up from his haze. His eyes were full of pain and guilt, so much so that Ethan almost reared back by the amount of emotion in those bloodshot orbs.

"How about I take her for you?" Ethan gently said and was already starting to hand out his arms towards Claire. He had noticed how much Brandt was starting to sway. Hesitantly, Brandt handed her over.

"I got her," Jane was fast to bid in and took Claire from Ethan's embrace and cuddled her in her arms. There her eyes quickly scanned the small girl's body to any obvious injuries. Other than a tiny burn on her arm and small cuts on her face, she harmed relatively unharmed.

"I-uh … I tried to protect her," Brandt rasped. His voice was raw from the possible smoke inhalation and it was barely above a whisper. Ethan frowned in confusion. "I really did. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough."

"Brandt …" Hunt tried to bud in, but the analyst continued like he hadn't heard him.

"I'm sorry. I failed again. I tried and I failed …"

"Brandt." This time the team leader used a more firm voice, hoping this would bring Brandt out of his daze, but he simply continued as his voice grew more and more absent.

"She's dead. I killed her … again."

"Will!" This time Ethan yelled out his name and grabbed a hold of the analyst's arms with firm hands. It worked. Brandt looked up and looked more coherent and awake than before. He frowned as if he just realized Hunt was standing in front of him.

"She's alright. You hear me?" Ethan continued. "She's going to be fine. All thanks to you. You made it. You saved her. She is safe."

Brandt looked at him in disbelief and then it was like realization started to dawn upon him. His orbs darted away while he nodded slowly. A small flicker of relief flashed across his face before all color disappeared. He began swaying from side to side violently and his eyes rolled upwards into his head. Then his eyelids closed and he collapsed to the ground.

Ethan just managed to catch him before he hit the ground. "You did good, Brandt, alright? You did good."

He turned to Benji and Jane, who was still holding Claire. "Please tell me she's going to be okay?"

She nodded confidently. "She is."

"Good," Ethan sighed with relief and directed his attention back to the unconscious man in his arms. He looked like he had been through hell with his tired features, pale skin and filthy appearance. And based on what Ethan had just heard, he guessed that, that was exactly what had happened and then some. It had been Brandt's own personal nightmare.

Ethan just hoped that he could help the analyst pick up the obvious broken pieces when this was all over and that Brandt would let him do it.

* * *

Ethan walked through the white hospital halls with tired but firm steps.

He was still wearing the clothes he had been wearing through their escape from the safe house and had only bothered to put a little water in his face to clean away the worst of the dirt and blood. Jane and Benji were similar, as they were both in their black outfits. Jane had changed her shirt though and thrown the other one out as the blood and tearing had damaged the garment too severely. Currently, the two agents were curled up in chairs next to Brandt's bed, sleeping but still guarding the unconscious analyst.

Ethan himself had been there for awhile too but right now there was something he needed to tend to. He sneaked a peak into every room in the noisy hallway he passed by until he found the patient he was looking for. Before going in, he braced himself and tried to find his positive side, which, when he was exhausted, was hard to locate. But he found it and then pulled open the patient room door in the pediatric section of the hospital.

He walked in with a large smile on his face, seemingly growing bigger on its own when he spotted the small girl inside. Claire McGregor was sitting cross-legged in her bed, dressed in pink pajamas with small bears on it. She had a bandage wrapped around her arm and the small cuts on her face had been cleaned and were now healthy looking thin red lines. An IV line had been inserted in her tiny left hand. Opposite of her, sat her father. The gray-haired senator was smiling from ear to ear, which made the few wrinkles he had stand out on his face. But he had clear eyes with hints of tears in the corners that a happy child wouldn't notice, but Ethan did.

He moved towards the bed and sat down on the chair so he was closer to her eye-level. She was smiling at him, larger than he had seen her do before. "Hey, Claire. How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," she answered, still a bit shy when she spoke. "How's Will?"

Ethan looked down on the floor as he contemplated how to answer. "He's, uhm, he's going to be just fine," he settled for answering. It was the most honest answer he had that held the most truth without frightening her.

"Can I see him?"

"You know, not right now. I think tomorrow would be better. Is that okay?" Ethan kindly smiled.

"Okay," Claire nodded. "I visit him tomorrow then. Is that okay, daddy?" she turned her head to her father, who had settled for just sitting and listening.

He smiled at her. "Of course, sweetie."

"I'm sure he would like that," Ethan said and placed a comforting hand on her arm. "Good to see you are feeling better."

He rose from the chair and started to walk towards the door. From behind him he heard a gentle mutter and sheets grinding against each other. The sound of "Agent Hunt!" stopped him in his tracks just as he made it out of the doorway. He turned around to come face to face with Senator McGregor. Now that he was closer to the man he could see the lines of exhaustion on his face.

"Senator, is there a problem?"

"No, no … uhm …" McGregor hesitantly said. He stopped himself and went in another direction. "I heard about your agent. Is he going to make it?"

"Eventually," the team leader simply answered.

"When he does … then tell him: 'thank you'." McGregor's eyes softened and showed the same amount of gratitude that his voice held. He bore the look of a relieved father. He extended his hand towards the IMF-agent.

"I will," Ethan promised and took the older man's hand.

"Thank you," McGregor repeated while they shook hands and Ethan felt the senator tightening his grip his message wouldn't be taken lightly. "To all of you. Thank you for bringing back my little girl."

"I can't take all the credit. But we are just doing our jobs."

Ethan quickly bid the man goodbye as he was growing anxious to go back to his analyst's hospital room. Now that he had seen that Claire was doing alright, he wanted nothing more than to see Brandt doing the same. And he knew the rest of his team felt the same way.

When he entered the dimly lit room, Benji was still sleeping on the plastic chair, a slight trickle of drool rolling down his chin from his mouth. Jane was awake though and was leaned back in her chair, looking lost in thought. But she turned her head towards the sound of Ethan's boots hitting the linoleum floor.

"Hey," she greeted silently, careful not to wake the sleeping technician or the unconscious patient.

"Hey. How's the arm?" Ethan nodded towards the bandaged limb that covered the graze wound.

"Working," she smirked slightly.

"And how's he?" he gestured to Brandt.

The analyst was lying completely motionless on the bed and with his pale color he almost blended in with the bed sheets he was entangled in. He, like Claire, had small cuts on his face there hadn't been done much to but unlike Claire, he also had a large gash on his forehead that had now been stitched up with butterfly stitches. Any other injuries he had sustained in the explosion were hidden under the hospital gown and bandages. They had just removed the oxygen mask that had been covering his nose and mouth and replaced it with a nasal cannula when he was able to breathe better on his own. A couple of thin wires ran from his chest under the blue gown to a heart monitor that was beeping steadily along and filling the otherwise silent room with a loud but hypnotic noise. He had small bags under his eyes and carried a strained expression on his face. It was tight and his brow was furrowed, almost like he was thinking too hard. Though he was asleep, it didn't look like he was resting at all.

Jane sighed at Ethan's question before answering. "The doctors say he's going to be fine, but it would probably be awhile before he wakes up."

Ethan just nodded. Nothing had changed since he left, then. So he decided to get comfortable and wait for Brandt to wake up, no matter how long it would take.

* * *

Brandt's whole body felt like it was floating. It felt like it was soaring freely around in clouds of darkness. To him, it formed an amusing paradox, because even though his body felt free and light, his mind was a completely different story.

Hauntingly dark memories assaulted his inner vision and cold claws held him in place every time he tried to escape them. He kept seeing Claire, limb, in front of him. The small girl who had trusted him with every fiber of her being that he had picked up in his arms. He had failed again. He had failed the IMF, Ethan, senator McGregor, himself … but most importantly, he had failed Claire. He had promised to return her to her father and keep her safe.

He wasn't sure how he was going to face Ethan. He had hoped he could have redeemed himself from his past failures with this new mission, but once again, all he got was confirmation that he should have just stayed away. It seemed like he couldn't do anything right anymore.

And he wondered if he could just stay where he was, trapped forever in this twisted paradox of freedom and pain.

But he found he couldn't. Because suddenly he wasn't flying anymore.

He was falling instead.

He felt how his body became heavier and connected with his mind. The first real thing he felt when he came to was the pain radiating from his body. It echoed in every corner and varied from a dull throb to a sharp stabbing pain. All of his limbs felt heavy and tired like he had been running for 24 hours straight. He could literally feel the exhaustion clinging on to his very being.

The next sense that came was sound. The most distinguished one was an annoyingly loud beeping noise. It popped up every few seconds like clockwork and if he had to identify it he would say it was sounded like a heart monitor. But with his muddled mind he couldn't be sure. If he strained himself he could also hear the faint sound of breathing, other than his own, which was rather loud even to his ears.

Then smell followed and Brandt quickly affirmed that he was in a hospital. He could recognize that distinguished smell anywhere.

He knew he had to open his eyes but he also knew that as soon as he did he had to face the failure. And he didn't think he was going to be ready for that. But he had to sooner or later.

He struggled to open his heavy eyelids and very slowly he pried his eyes open

**TBC**


	8. Letter To a Friend

**Title: **A Case of Déjà-vu

**Chapter title: **Letter to a Friend

**Summary: **Brandt's worst nightmare comes to life as he is forced to relive his demons when a kidnapping turns into a protection detail … and this time he is determined not to fail, no matter the cost.

**Author's note: **So this is the last chapter! And before we start I would like to thank Grey Panther, Anise Nadiah, SPN4eva556, Guest and Acrylate for reviewing chapter 7.

And to all of you that have reviewed on the other chapters, added the story or me to their faves, or followed … I would like to thank you all for the support! As a writer that means worlds, so thank you for that and you guys absolutely rock! I love you ;)

I guess there isn't anything else to say other than: Enjoy this final chapter!

**Disclaimer: **I still don't own anything … Sucks, but true.

"_For a man to conquer himself is the first and noblest of all victories._"

* * *

The fluorescent lights that hung in the ceiling above him had been toned down in the room, but that didn't stop them from hurting Brandt's sensitive orbs anyway. He squinted his eyes slightly at the bright white light and tried to blink away the haze that seemed to have settled over them. He looked away from the blinding ceiling and across the hospital room.

Ethan's blurred features slowly came into focus; a small, relieved smile spreading across his lips. There was no one else in the room.

"Welcome back, Brandt."

Brandt opened his mouth to speak, but he found that no words came out. Instead, he could utter a small pathetic squeaking sound which made his parched throat protest painfully. Ethan handed him a cup of water, which Brandt accepted gratefully. The cool, clear liquid did wonders as it ran down his aching throat. He cleared it a few times before trying to speak again.

"How long have I been out?" His voice was raw and hoarse.

"A few days."

"Claire okay?" Brandt hesitated to ask. He wasn't sure if he could handle knowing the answer.

But Ethan quickly smiled at him reassuringly. "She's fine. They are only keeping her here for observation," he quickly clarified.

The analyst released the breath he had been holding in relief. _She's safe_. He wasn't sure what he would have done, if she hadn't lived. He knew he would have probably walked out of the IMF forever. The chances of another protection detail were high and, though he had done them successfully in the past before, he knew he couldn't go through with another one. The demons of the past would forever loom over his head, ready to strike at the worst possible time. Not only would he endanger himself and the asset, he would also endanger his teammates and that was something he absolutely couldn't live with.

Hunt observed his teammate intently. The tired features and the battle that seemed to roam inside the analyst's mind. He took it all in.

"This one got to you," he finally concluded out loud.

The sentence snapped Brandt out of his train of thought and his eyes quickly found Ethan's. They held his gaze for a moment, but then Brandt quickly looked away and on to the floor, deciding what his response should be. In the end, he settled for a simple one.

"Yeah."

Just like Ethan had suspected, the analyst had in fact been through a personal nightmare and to him, it didn't look like it was over quite yet. But he had promised both Brandt and himself that he would get him through this. It was his job as leader of this team.

"This is about Croatia, isn't it?"

A flash of guilt crossed Brandt's face and he swallowed a single time. "The minute I saw that girl I was taken back to that day. Suddenly, I was in Croatia again and all I saw was your dead wife."

"I thought you had left that behind, Brandt."

"I have carried the guilt of your wife's death for years. I have felt like the horrible responsible for putting you in prison. Because of that, I resigned from active duty! You think I can just let that go after a single conversation?" Brandt angrily replied.

"Then why did you pick up that phone?" Ethan countered. "You could have just continued walking away, if it was a problem."

"Maybe I should have! But you seemed hell-bent on having me on your team and I don't understand why." The question he didn't speak was evident in his eyes.

"We went through so much during the Ghost Protocol," Ethan sighed. "We worked as a team and we succeeded, against all odds. We function together, Brandt, and we need you just as much as you need us."

Brandt contemplated the answer for a moment before he shoot back one of his own. "I thought about that too. And at first, I believed it just as much as you do." He sighed deeply. "I'd never given it much thought. I think because it all happened so quickly and by the time it was over, I found myself back on a team. I was back in the field … accepting missions … doing the job I signed on for. I didn't question it and I really didn't look back."

"Until this mission?" Ethan guessed.

"Until this mission," Brandt confirmed.

"Why didn't you say something?"

"And say what? The minute I saw Claire sitting alone and scared in that room I knew I couldn't go back. By then, it was already too late."

"Brandt, you can't keep beating yourself up over this," Ethan wanted nothing more than for the man before him to see the truth. "The Secretary kept you even though you resigned from active duty. There aren't many people who get that opportunity. I certainly don't think any less of you, I never did."

"Then let me ask you this: if Julia had actually died? If she was gone from this world, would you have forgiven me?"

Ethan sat back, stunned at Brandt's words. He had not given that much thought. He thought everyday about her and of how close he had come to lose her and how devastated he would be if she no longer would be in his life, however little that was now. But he had never thought about what would have happened if her staged death had actually been real. He had no idea what he would have done, especially with lead agent William Brandt.

"No, you wouldn't," the analyst continued. "You would have tracked me down and hurt me in every way you had been, because it is only fair. And if you didn't, you would never have talked to me and you certainly wouldn't have put me on your team."

Ethan finally recovered from the initial shock of Brandt using Julia against him. "You can't speculate in what could have been. She isn't dead … She is alive and she is safe."

Brandt eyed the team leader before him and then smiled and shook his head like an idea so ridiculous had popped up in his head.

"This is what I am talking about. You forgave me in the blink of an eye and in that moment that was enough for me. But now I've realized who the person I seek forgiveness from is." He looked up at Ethan again, his face serious and filled with pain. "Me. And I can't give it."

"Brandt, you can't think that …"

"And you shouldn't forgive me either. Not that easily." The last sentence came out barely above a whisper. All the talking and the emotional turmoil had begun to take a toll of Brandt's energy. His eyes were heavy and his brain became more muddled with every passing second.

Ethan noticed it before Brandt even did and when he saw the dropping eyelids, he smiled sadly. He gently placed a hand on Brandt's shoulder. "Get some sleep, Brandt."

Even if he wanted to argue, Brandt didn't have to energy or the time. He quickly felt his eyes close and soon he fell into a slumber.

Hunt watched his agent fall asleep and then buried his head in his hands for a moment, overcome himself by the emotional drain. He stood up and took a quick glance on the pale, sleeping agent in the hospital bed before he turned to the door.

He only got four steps, when he stopped short. In the doorway, Benji and Jane were standing, both with a steaming Styrofoam cup in their hands. Their faces were questioning and somber. There is no telling how much of the conversation they had heard.

But Ethan does not begin to explain or offer up any words. Instead he just walks by with determined steps and down the white hall of the hospital.

* * *

He needed time to think. What started as an offer of help and consolation somehow evolved into a fight with no real winner.

Ethan was pacing around in the hallway a whole floor from Brandt's room, making sure he wouldn't bump into anyone from his team. The analyst had asked a single question that had blown his head away.

_If Julia had actually died? If she was gone from this world, would you have forgiven me?_

Ethan could barely bear the thought of actually losing Julia forever. He had nearly done so years ago and that almost-pain was bad enough. He didn't need the real one in his heart.

Deep down, he knew he probably couldn't forgive Brandt if the worst case scenario had come true. Merely the thought of having the same man responsible for Julia's death anywhere near him or his team would be enough for him to want to vomit out of disgust.

And that was the exact same conclusion Brandt had reached out there in the field. And if Ethan couldn't even think about forgiving him, why should he forgive himself? Why should he let himself go and take the easy way out when it all rested on his shoulders?

But if Ethan knew that would be Brandt's genuine feelings, he suspected he might cut him some slack. Julia had always been and would always be his responsibility, no matter how much he would try to deny it.

Ethan stopped short in his tracks as he realized where his train of thought had headed.

He would, eventually, forgive Brandt for a mistake that wasn't even his. It would be a mistake no one made. Far down the road, Ethan would learn to let it go. He would have learned that the whole world doesn't rest on his shoulders, even though he had always made it his job to think so. It didn't rest on Brandt's shoulders either. The analyst and the team leader had a commonality there; they both took upon themselves to save everybody and to harden and crumple when they failed.

He just needed Brandt to see that failure would always be a part of their lives and that it was okay to offer yourself forgiveness every once in a while.

Ethan had had a hard time adjusting when the IMF staged Julia's murder. He had a hard time forgiving himself for the fact that he brought her into the danger zone in the first place. But as time passed by, he learned to deal with it. He had watched her a few times after she had settled in. She had been happy and protected.

And if the price for her safety was for him to stay away, then he could accept that. If the most he got was a knowing and flirtatious smile from afar in exchange for her long life, then who was he to complain?

He had forgiven himself for it and he would teach Brandt how to do so too.

* * *

When Ethan arrived with the elevator at the floor Brandt's room was on again, he felt his phone vibrate softly in the back pocket of his jeans.

He took it out and read the text message that filled the centre of the screen, smirking lightly as he read Benji's text.

_Figured you two ladies needed privacy, so headed home for quick shower and nap._

Ethan couldn't help but feel a small relief, since Benji would only be joking with this if things weren't completely dire. Of course, it was possible that Brandt had simply brushed them off or lied when they undoubtedly had asked after Ethan stormed out of the room.

But with the hurt and guilt Brandt had showed, he doubted the analyst could have covered that up so quickly.

No matter the reason, he was glad that there would be no one to bother them when he tried to patch things up.

Ethan quickly rethought that sentence when he looked through the large glass window when he reached Brandt's room.

A smile tugged at his lips when he had peeked through just in time to see Claire McGregor stand on the tip of her toes and place a gentle kiss on Brandt's cheek. Then she started to exit the room, towards her father who was waiting patiently in the doorway. Just as she reached the doorway, she turned and waved her goodbyes for the last time. Brandt was smiling kindly at her and waved back, trying to match her eagerness.

Then Claire stalked out of the room. She placed her small hand in her father's and smiled happily up at him. As they walked down the hall, she suddenly whipped around and looked at Ethan, who was starting to head into the room. They locked eyes and she smiled her big toothless grin and quickly waved at him too. He smirked and lifted his hand to say goodbye.

Then Claire and Senator McGregor began walking towards the exit of the hospital, Claire talking unconcerned to her father like nothing had happened.

Ethan found that Brandt had laid back into the pillows again, looking slightly exhausted, though he looked better than when he first woke up. Some of the color had returned to his face.

The team leader didn't enter completely; instead he leaned casually against the doorway frame and crossed his arms. He waited to speak until Brandt looked him in the eyes.

"She's taking everything very well," he simply started.

"Her father said she had had a few nightmares, but it is a small price to pay, all things considered," Brandt flatly answered.

A sort of uncomfortable silence followed and for a few minutes none of the two men bothered to be the first one to speak. It was Ethan's voice who finally broke the silence.

"You were right," he stated, almost hating himself for saying it, because he knew that if he didn't play it right, Brandt would never learn to let himself of the hook. At the analyst's questioning stare, he clarified. "About Julia. If it hadn't been a cover-up and if she was truly dead, I probably wouldn't have forgiven you. I would have resigned and hunted down every person involved in her death."

Brandt's eyes fell to the floor and Ethan could clearly see the wheels beginning to turn. He just needed him to see.

"Brandt," he said and waited patiently the moment it took for his agent's tired grey orbs to focus on him. "That didn't happen. And now, hopefully, it can never happen. You can't keep beating yourself up over what-ifs."

Out of all the answers, Ethan had predicted coming, he did not see the one Brandt actually voiced.

"I know."

"You know?" Hunt's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He hadn't really thought of an answer for that response.

Brandt sighed before he started to clarify. "Seeing Claire unhurt and safe was something of an eye-opener to me. All of the sudden I understood. I may never forgive myself for what happened, but I can defiantly learn to live with it."

"So the next time a protection detail comes through our door?"

"I keep my eyes open so none of you super-agents miss anything," Brandt smiled honestly for what seemed like the first time since the mission began.

"That's good to know," Ethan smiled back. He cleared his throat before he asked a question that had been nagging in the back of his mind. Now that the heavier turmoil was out of the way, he could address it now. "Why did you come back? After you walked out that safe house, you could have just stayed away, but you didn't. You returned."

Brandt's eyes fell to the floor and he seemed to contemplate his answer very seriously. It was almost like he didn't know or if he simply hadn't thought anymore about it. A few moments of silence followed and in those small seconds the only thing audible was the heart monitor. Then: "You said that it was your job to protect Julia."

Ethan nodded in confirmation. "It is."

"By the time we had rescued Claire," Brandt sighed heavily. "I realized that the job of protecting her had become mine … at least for a while."

The team leader couldn't help but smile at the logic. He couldn't argue with it. How could he? He had seen it the exact same way with Julia, only that job hadn't stopped yet. It was his own logic and to others, it might not make sense, but to the two IMF agents, it described exactly how they saw it. And that was just another thing they shared.

"Can we make a deal though?" Brandt said, his gaze serious.

"Anything," Ethan assured.

Then a smile broke out across Brandt's lips and a sort of mischievous spark glinted in his eyes. "Next time, we get Benji to do all the hard work."

Ethan couldn't stop the small laughter that erupted from his throat. He nodded his head approvingly.

"Deal."

**The end**

**And that is all for now, folks! Drop a review on what you thought, not just on this final conclusion but also on the story in general. What was bad, good, weird … I'll take anything. After all, how can I become a better writer if no one points out the mistakes?**

**Anyways … I love you guys! **

**Crimescenelover out. **


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